


Elysium

by Vellenox



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Human, F/M, M/M, Parent-Teacher Relationship, Past Relationship(s), Single Parent Stiles Stilinski, Single Parents, Teacher Derek Hale, Work In Progress
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-05-01
Updated: 2016-09-30
Packaged: 2018-06-05 18:03:38
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 7,186
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6715549
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Vellenox/pseuds/Vellenox
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stiles and Lydia were once in love, and their deep bond created something beautiful - their daughter Elysia. Their paths from there divided, and Lydia and Stiles agreed to an amicable separation, with Stiles securing custody of Elysia while Lydia pursued her career.</p><p>At first, when Elysia became old enough for elementary school, Stiles was reluctant to let his little girl go. But when he sees her grade one teacher for the first time, both he, and Elysia, become enamoured with Mr. Hale.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Stiles stood behind the window of his father’s house, eyes darting nervously across and down the street. His lip was almost numb from the amount of nervous nibbling he’d been occupying himself with.

Lydia said she would be there to drop Elysia off at one o’clock sharp. A glance at his phone confirmed that it was half past one, and he had no new messages. “Where the hell are you…?” He whispered quietly to himself.

Finally, no more than a few moments after he’d checked his phone for the billionth time, Lydia’s ostentatious red Ferrari pulled into the driveway. He lingered at the window long enough to catch a glimpse of his daughter get released from her car seat prison. After that she was a flash of limbs and he dashed to the door to intercept her.

The moment he swung it open she barrelled into his arms in a fit of giggles and shrieking excitement. “Daddy!” She squealed with enough joy to fill Stiles’s entire world with warmth. He swept her up into his arms and squeezed until she squirmed.

“Hey squidge!” He peppered her freckled forehead with kisses and nuzzled her with his nose. She smelled like lilacs and jasmine – the same scent that came bottled in Lydia’s exquisite, expensive perfume decanters. “Smells like someone got into mommy’s perfume.” Stiles said, his tone playfully chastising. Elysia’s lips pursed and her eyes wandered upwards in an adorable attempt at innocence. Her cheeks dimpled as she supressed a mischievous smile.

“Louisa caught her making _potions_ in the bathroom. On the floor. All over _mommy_ ’ _s_ nice new bath mat.” Lydia explained as she strode up the stairs in her nine-inch stilettos. Everything about her, from her Gucci purse to her Guess dress, was flawless and fierce. Ever since they were kids she’d always radiated perfection.

But that hadn’t been the reason Stiles had fallen for her. It had been the reason they broke up.

“Mommy said the eff word today!” Elysia sang, pointing an accusatory finger at her mother. Stiles recognized the strategy to distract immediately – it was the same ruse he used to get himself out of trouble.

Lydia lifted her sunglasses away from her eyes to pin Elysia with a pointed look. “Yeah, well, when you’re older and stuck in traffic and get cut off by some,” she paused, conscientiously monitoring her word choice, “ _jerk_ , then you can say the eff word too, sweetie.”

“That’s not what you called him earlier…” Elysia mumbled quietly.

Stiles chuckled under his breath and set Elysia down, sensing her unrest. The moment her feet touched the ground she wriggled away from him and tore into the house. “Thanks for bringing her. I know how busy it’s been since the promotion, so I appreciate you taking the time.” Stiles leaned against the open doorframe, arms crossed lazily across his chest. “Want a coffee or something?” He motioned towards the kitchen but she was quick to decline the request.

“No, that’s fine. I have another meeting in an hour, so I should get back.” She said, smiling her brightest, polite smile. “Elysia was…” Lydia trailed off, peering over Stiles’s shoulder. “She reminds me of you.”

Stiles smirked and rubbed a hand against the back of his head. “Yeah, she’s a little spastic.” Stiles agreed. She’d inherited his inability to focus on only one thing at a time. In the span of five seconds she could whirlwind her way around a room. “She definitely _looks_ like you, though.”

The easiest telltale sign of the Martin bloodline was Elysia’s lush strawberry blonde hair that fell in bouncing waves around her shoulders. Usually Stiles could get her to sit still long enough to fix in a small bow, but some days the struggle wasn’t worth it. More subtle signs of Elysia’s heritage were the pouty lips and bright, opulent green eyes.

She looked like a miniature version of Lydia.

“I guess she gets the best of both worlds then.” Lydia remarked quietly. The change in tone caught Stiles’s attention, but any thoughts he had were whisked away when Elysia reappeared at his side.

“Mommy!” Elysia made grabby hands, arms outstretched towards her mother. Lydia smiled and scooped her up into a tight hug.

“Alright sweetie, it’s time for me to head out.” She kissed her cheek and then set her back down. “I’ll see you again in a couple of weeks, okay?” Elysia nodded, a flash of disappointment and sadness crossing her features for a brief moment before her natural exuberance supplanted it. They’d been through this so many times now that she’d gotten used to saying goodbye to her mother without pause.

“Love you to the moon and back!” Elysia sang.

“Love you to the moon and back.” Lydia echoed and waved a short goodbye at Stiles. She backtracked down the porch stairs and stone pathway to her car, honking twice as she tore out of the driveway and headed back into the city.

“Daddy!” Elysia chirped the moment Stiles closed the door. He turned to see her peeking at him from the kitchen doorway. “Where’s poppy?” She asked, pressing her hand against her cheek. “Is he playing hide and seek?”

Stiles chuckled and crossed over to her. He knelt down so that they were eye level with each other. “Poppy’s at work. Remember? He rounds up all the bad guys in town so you and I can be extra safe every day.”

She nodded and wore a slanted expression of wisdom, as if she’d known this fact all along. “Just checking!” She exclaimed and reached over to rest her hand against the side of his face. “If poppy’s not here,” she said, her tone of voice serious, “then why are _we_ here?”

“We’re here because we promised poppy we’d eat dinner with him tonight.” Stiles explained, and Elysia puffed out a hot breath, disturbing strands of hair that had fallen over her eyes. “I set up the craft table, wanna draw poppy a picture?”

Stiles had learned that being a parent – especially the parent of an energetic child like Elysia – meant that he needed to present her with an infinite amount of stimulating activities. Generally he liked activities they could do together, like crafts, board games, sports, and reading, but she was an independent spitfire. Even though she was only six-years-old, she’d already started enforcing her independence.

“I guess,” She sighed, exasperation saturating her tone. She dragged her heels as she crossed the hallway and disappeared into the playroom his father had installed years ago for her.

Stiles smirked, shaking his head. _Of course_ his daughter would inherit Lydia’s sassy attitude. Because being a single dad wasn’t hard enough.

After a few minutes, giving her enough time to settle in, Stiles poked his head through the open doorway to check in on her. She sat at the small craft bench, humming softly to herself as the sheet in front of her became a masterpiece of chaos. She didn’t have one single favourite colour – she loved _all_ of them, and her tastes were well represented in her ambiguous art pieces.

“You want a snack sweetie?” Stiles asked.

Elysia looked up at him from under her eyelashes, her lips puckered and cheeks puffed out. “Ice cream?”

Stiles raised an eyebrow at her. “Ice cream is a special treat, not a snack.”

Her eyes rolled up towards the ceiling, and as her cheeks deflated she let out a long breath. “Mommy gives me ice cream…” She said so quietly Stiles almost didn’t hear her.

“Sorry, what was that?” Stiles challenged, and she looked back over at him.

She shrugged. “Can I have an apple?”

“Now _that_ sounds more like a snack.” Stiles smiled, drumming his fingers against the doorframe. “One apple coming right up!”

“And cheese?” Elysia asked, just as Stiles began to duck out of the room. He paused, checking his watch to see that dinner would be in two hours.

“Okay, and cheese.” He nodded, heading out of the room again.

“And peanut butter?” She squeaked.

He stuck his head back inside the room. “ _And_ peanut butter?!” He exclaimed, and she nodded.

“ _And_ peanut butter.” She reiterated. Stiles narrowed his eyes at her, and she mirrored the expression.

“Alright, fine, and peanut butter.” He consented.

͠͠͠

“Poppy! Poppy! _Poppy_!” Elysia raced to meet Stiles’s father before he could even make it through the front door. Always vigilant and prepared for a surprise tackle from his favourite, and only, granddaughter, the sheriff managed not to topple over as her arms squeezed his legs.

“Hey there Ellie,” He patted her back and reached over her head to pass Stiles his gun holster and work bag. Stiles immediately stowed his father’s work equipment in the child-friendly, impenetrable safe, in the unreachable, utmost top cabinet in the kitchen. When he returned, Elysia had climbed her way into his father’s arms.

“I drew this for you!” She presented him the picture she’d been working on. He graciously accepted the gift and gave her a thank-you kiss on the forehead.

“I love it!” He alleged, warmth softening his worn features. “This’ll go right onto the fridge, where I can see it every morning and every night.” He carried her into the kitchen, setting her down and handing it to her. “Alright, where does this one go?” He asked, handing her a magnet.

The fridge was _covered_ in past pictures, all crafted by the budding _artiste_. There was barely a blank space left.

She inspected her ‘art gallery’, tapping a thoughtful finger to her lips as she hummed a low, “ahhhhhh.” She took a step up to the fridge and slapped it on. “There!” She proclaimed, and Stiles’s dad helped her fasten the magnet to the door.

“Perfect,” The sheriff approved. She smiled up at him, and then slipped away to go play with her Legos in the other room.

Stiles joined his father’s side, admiring the explosion of colours and shapes and characters his daughter’s pictures depicted. “I think you’re gonna need a new fridge soon.” He commented, and his dad let out a chuckle.

“Yeah, you’re telling me.” He sighed, opening the fridge to retrieve a beer. He offered one to Stiles, but he declined. “How’s work?”

“Good, yeah, it’s going pretty good. The hours work perfectly, the pay is enough.” Stiles shrugged. He worked as an Archivist at the city hall. It wasn’t exactly glamourous, but it leveraged his History degree and kept him busy.

“Just _enough_?” His dad asked, and Stiles shrugged again.

“Yeah, it pays the bills.” That’s what being a grown-up was, as Stiles had learned. Paying the bills. Surviving. Supporting his daughter. His life wasn’t exciting – he spent most of his nights, after Elysia’s curfew, watching TV or reading. Occasionally, when he didn’t have Elysia for the weekend, he splurged and caught a matinée at the local theatre. Alone. Or with Scott.

“Aren’t you supposed to be getting more hours? Once school starts?” His dad asked, moving around the kitchen to prepare dinner. Stiles leaned against the counter, his arms crossed and brow furrowed.

“Yeah,” he trailed off, “I’m a little worried about that…”

“Why’s that?” His dad continued to press. Considering no one else in Stiles’s life asked these sort of questions, he owed the answers to _someone_. Might as well be his dad.

“You remember how tough it was when I started school?” Stiles asked, and his father nodded.

“Oh, I remember,” he said, “you got sent home halfway through the first day.”

Stiles _also_ remembered. He remembered how overwhelming all of it was, and how hard it had been to listen to the teacher. With so many novel sensations he couldn’t handle the overload of information. He’d melted down. Cried until the teacher gave up and called his mom to come pick him up.

“Yeah, I’m worried switching from half-days to full-days will be too much for Ellie.” Stiles admitted. She finished kindergarten, and that had been pretty okay, but Stiles still worried. “I’ve talked to her about it and explained the difference between kindergarten and grade one.”

His dad nodded, the corner of his lips downturned. “And? What’d she say?”

Stiles scrubbed a hand through his unruly hair. “She seemed okay with it.” His dad snorted.

“So, really, what I’m hearing is that _you_ aren’t ready for her to be in school full-time.” The sheriff fixed his son with an unimpressed look.

Stiles’s lips twitched. Okay, so _maybe_ his dad was probably right, but Stiles would _never_ admit that. “I’m just saying, I’m worried.”

His dad took a swig of his beer. “Yeah, and that’ll never change. That pit in your stomach will never go away for as long as your heart beats for that kid out there. Welcome to parenthood son. Can’t shelter her from everything.”

Stiles knew his father was right, but that wouldn’t stop him from at least _trying_.


	2. Chapter 2

“Lunch bag?” Stiles asked.

Elysia rummaged through her child-sized backpack. Frozen’s Elsa, Anna, and Olaf smiled up at him from the bag. “Check!”

“Pencil case?” Stiles continued through the list. They were parked in the lot of Elysia’s new school. Kids from all ages were gathering around the building, crowding every entrance, four-square, and field.

“Check!” She announced. “I have everything daddy. I promise.”

“Do you remember who to call if you can’t get a hold of me?” Stiles quizzed her.

She sighed. “Poppy, and if he doesn’t pick up, Aunt Melissa. And if _she_ doesn’t pick up either, mommy.” Elysia answered, tugging at her car seat belt. “Can we _go_ now?”

Stiles took a deep breath. He unbuckled her seat and lifted her out of the car, squeezing her in a tight hug until she wiggled and whined to be put down. “Alright, hold my hand,” Stiles instructed as he set her down and they crossed the parking lot together. They circled the outside of the school until they reached the elementary entrance that led to her new classroom.

Elysia immediately bounded off to socialize with Isaac, the little boy that lived just down the street from them. His parents were Erica and Boyd. Stiles had gone to high school with them, and occasionally interacted with them because of his daughter’s friendship with their son. Overall Isaac was a good kid – shy, but good – and Elysia got along really well with him.

“Let’s play!” Elysia insisted, tugging on Isaac’s arm. He was absorbed in a comic book, but set it aside in favour of being dragged away by Elysia.

Leaving Elysia and Isaac to their own devices, Stiles crossed the playground and joined the gaggle of parents gathered by the entrance. Boyd was among them.

“Hey!” Stiles greeted, grateful to see a familiar face. “First day of school, you nervous?”

Boyd shrugged, as solemn as ever. “Not really.”

Stiles nodded, already feeling the awkwardness of their distant acquaintance. He forged forward, hoping to strike up some sort of conversation that would pass the time by. “How’s Erica doing?” The only thing he knew they had in common was Erica, so that was his best chance.

“She’s good, she started working mornings so I’ll be dropping Isaac off at school.” Boyd answered. Again, Stiles felt disadvantaged because Boyd wasn’t giving him anything to work with.

“Cool,” Stiles continued, even though he felt like their entire exchange was forced and uncomfortable. After a full thirty seconds of silence, Stiles decided he might have better luck with the other parents who were chattering on endlessly. “Hey,” He greeted, “I’m Stiles, Elysia’s dad.” They were all moms, all of them manicured and made-up like they had photo-shoots to get to.

They all made their introductions – their names and faces would be forgotten the moment Stiles left the school. In any case, they eagerly absorbed Stiles into their conversation.

“I heard he is just absolutely _gorgeous_ ,” one of the mother’s drawled. The other moms giggled incessantly, nodding their agreement and appreciation.

“Well, _I_ heard, he’s _rich_. Family fortune.” Another mom provided, and the group swooned. “ _And_ he’s _single_!” They squealed in enthusiastic unison.

“Sorry,” Stiles interrupted the giggle-fest, “who exactly is _he_?” Stiles had yet to hear a name involved.

The woman next to him leaned in, lowering her voice so only their group would hear. “Mr. Hale,” she whispered, and the women burst into excited murmurs at the mention of his name.

Stiles recognized the name – they were talking about Elysia’s teacher.

Stiles’s interest was piqued, but he remained silent, listening and gathering information on the apparently infamous Mr. Hale.

His first name was Derek, and his family had lived in Beacon Hills for centuries. Old blood meant old money, and the rumour was that since the Hale seniors had kicked it, the fortune fell on Derek’s shoulders. There were apparently sisters, but little was known about them, except that they no longer lived in the town, leaving Derek all alone in his family’s _manor_.

“I wouldn’t mind keeping him warm,” one of the mothers said, just as the bell rang to signal the start of the school day. The small children ran towards the door where a line was already being marshalled by a couple of eager parents.

“Oh! Look!” One of the women hissed, “There he is!”

Abruptly all heads turned to face the school. Stiles, a little slow on the uptake, looked around confused for a moment before he realized what and _who_ they were talking about.

He subtly shifted his body and followed everyone’s gaze to the man standing in the doorway.

Derek Hale was… well, he _was_ gorgeous. Everything about him from his European, olive skin to his dark hair and light eyes, made Stiles’s stomach twist itself into a tight knot. It didn’t help that the button-down Derek wore barely hid the hint of a well-toned body underneath.

Teachers weren’t supposed to look like that. They were supposed to be gawky and awkward and eccentric. Derek looked more like a trainer or a GQ model, than a grade one teacher.

“I can’t wait for the first parent-teacher night,” A mom said, and the rest of the group – now dripping with unbridled lust for the new teacher – all murmured their agreement.

“Me neither, so, if you’ll excuse me,” The mom with cherry red lips and platinum blonde hair purred, delicately pushing aside the others to begin her heel-clicking march towards the unsuspecting Derek.

Just as she reached him, Derek looked up from a conversation he was having with one of the kids in the lineup. He smiled politely, and Stiles couldn’t pull his eyes away from the brightness of it. From Derek.

Suddenly someone thumped into Stiles’s legs, almost knocking him over.

“Daddy!” Elysia chirruped, clinging onto his leg. The group of moms _aww_ ’ed.

“What beautiful red hair!” They melted, cooing over Elysia until her cheeks were red with embarrassment. She began tugging Stiles away from them, hiding behind his leg and watching the moms with skeptically narrowed eyes.

Stiles allowed her to lead him to the end of her line. “Alright sweetie, I’ll be here to pick you up at the end of the day, okay? At three. But if you need to come home early, you call me, understand?”

Elysia rolled her eyes up to the sky, shaking her head. “Just give me a hug and say goodbye, dad.” She wrapped her arms around his neck and squeezed tightly. He held her in his arms until the line began to move, and he was forced to let his sweet, little girl go.

͠

Stiles watched the clock all day long. The moment two o’clock rolled around he finished his duties and told Betty, his only other co-worker during week days, that he was off to pick Elysia up.

He hadn’t heard from Elysia or the school all day, which he convinced himself was a good thing (although, it had taken _a lot_ of persuading). On the way to the school he stopped at the nearest Walmart to pick up a fresh, new colouring book. A reward for Elysia’s first day of grade one.

This time, when he arrived at the school doors, there were very few parents there. Thankfully, Erica was among them.

“Hey!” Stiles greeted, genuinely happy to see her. She was still in her scrubs, and there were dark bags under her eyes, but she still brightened when she saw him.

“Hey Stiles! How’s it going?” She asked.

“Pretty good. Work was easy today.” He motioned towards her, “How about you? Looks like you’re kicking ass and taking names at the hospital.”

She laughed – one short, abrupt chuckle that gave away how utterly exhausted she was. “Right. _My_ ass is the one getting kicked right now. Switching from nights to days has been… well, not easy. But worth it. This way I get to spend more time with Isaac and Boyd, and I don’t have to deal with the insanity of night shift.”

“Well, as long as you’re happy.” Stiles smiled, and she mustered a smirk in return. “It’s nice that Isaac and Elysia are in the same class together again this year.”

Erica nodded enthusiastically. “Isaac _adores_ her. And so do I. You and Lydia raised a good kid. Elysia might be the only kid I like, that isn’t mine.”

Stiles chuckled, thinking about the other kids and secretly agreeing with her. Most of them were whiney and entitled and being raised up to believe they were the center of the universe. Good manners were beginning to go extinct as iPhones and tablets were becoming the new source of “babysitting”.

“Anyways, have you met Mr. Hale?” Erica asked, and all at once Stiles remembered Derek Hale and his inhuman good looks.

“No,” Stiles replied, trying to sound casual, “not officially. Saw him though. Made all the other moms swoon.”

Erica’s lips quirked into a half-smile. “Boyd said as much. Actually, he said, and I quote, ‘he’s pretty hunky,’ so now I’m curious.”

Stiles snorted out a laugh. “Oh man. Wow. Okay, well, I guess I’ll defer to Boyd’s judgement on that.”

Erica and Stiles chatted until the school bell rang and the horde of children were loosed out onto the schoolyard. Isaac was out before Elysia, but Erica hung back in hopes of catching a glimpse of Mr. Hale.

Finally, when all the kids had poured out, Elysia emerged with Mr. Hale by her side. She was holding his hand, looking up at him with the toothiest grin Stiles had ever seen on his daughter’s face. When she scanned the schoolyard she squealed with joy at the sight of Stiles.

Erica had all but squealed the same octave when she saw Derek.

“ _That’s_ Mr. Hale?” She gawked. Stiles could relate. “Damn…”

“Daddy!” Elysia tugged on Derek’s hand, pulling him over to Stiles. Erica quickly composed herself, pursing her lips and clearing her throat. When they reached them, Elysia waved at Erica. “Hey Isaac’s mom!”

Erica waved back, “Hey Elysia. Who’s your new friend?”

Derek smiled, offering his free hand to Erica. “Mr. Hale.” Erica graciously shook his hand and bowed her head. After a short pause Derek chuckled. She still hadn’t let go of his hand. “So, do you just go by, ‘Isaac’s mom’?”

Erica blushed, airily giggling. “No, uh. No. I’m Erica.”

“It’s a pleasure to meet you,” Derek replied cordially, “Isaac was extremely helpful in class today.”

Elysia wiggled excitedly. “Isaac and I were Derek’s helpers! We put away the books and crayons!” Derek nodded, a broad smile on his face. “ _And_ Isaac was the _only one_ who could count all the way up to _thirty_ on his own!” She paused to smile at Isaac, who was shyly hiding behind Erica. Elysia looked up at Stiles with a comically serious expression pulling at her eyebrows. “I only got to twenty-two. Isaac is very smart.”

“Thanks Elysia,” Isaac mumbled, “so are you.” After a short pause he tugged on his mom’s pants. “Mommy, can we go now?” He asked quietly, and Erica patted his shoulder.

“Alright, that’s our cue. It was lovely meeting you Mr. Hale.” She gave a small wave and began walking away with Isaac. She peered over her shoulder as she left, pointing at Derek, whose back was to her. She then pointed at Stiles, and winked at him.

Stiles shook his head, rolling his eyes at her. Derek frowned, following Stiles’s gaze to where Erica was making lewd, suggestive gestures with her fist. The moment he saw she startled and kept walking.

“What was…” Derek trailed off, before shaking his head and dismissing it altogether. “Anyways, hi. You must be Elysia’s father.”

Stiles smiled. “That I am.” He knelt down and tilted his head at Elysia. “Speaking of which, where’s my hug, squidge?” Elysia smiled coyly and let go of Derek’s hand to plaster a kiss on Stiles’s cheek before crawling into his arms. He cradled Elysia in his arms as he stood. “Stiles.”

Derek frowned in confusion. “Pardon?”

“Sorry, that’s my name. Stiles Stilinski. I’m not just saying random words, I promise.” Stiles clarified and Derek nodded in understanding. “Ready to go Elle?” She nodded, kicking her feet gently against his sides.

“Oh, before you go,” Derek said, just as Stiles set Elysia down so she could scoop up her backpack, “I was hoping to get a chance to talk with you. Do you mind coming in a little early tomorrow?”

Stiles’s heart began its nervous twitter. What did Derek want to talk about? Was it about Elysia? “Sure, yeah. Is everything… okay?”

Derek waved his hand in the air dismissively. “Yeah, yeah. Everything’s good. I’ll talk to you tomorrow then.”

“See you then,” Stiles replied, and Derek returned to the school while Elysia and Stiles made their way to the car. When he buckled Elysia into her seat he let his anxious curiosity get the better of him. “Did anything happen today at school?” He asked.

She clicked her toes together and shook her head. “Nope.” She paused, squinting her eyes and scrunching up her nose. “Well, yeah. I lost one of my pencils. I’m sorry daddy.”

Stiles let out a relieved chuckle. “That’s fine hun, we’ll get you another one.” He kissed her on the forehead and closed the door. As he climbed into the driver’s seat he remembered the colouring book and blindly rummaged around behind his seat until he found the plastic bag. “For having such a great first day, I got you a little something.” He wrestled the book out of the bag and handed it Elysia, who was already wiggling with excited anticipation.

“Thanks daddy!” She sang, accepting the book and immediately flipping through all the pages. “I get to make Olaf green!” She exclaimed. Stiles smiled.

He had the best daughter ever.


	3. Chapter 3

“Hello?” Stiles knocked on the half-open door.

Elysia’s classroom had been easy to find. It was just around the corner from the hooks and cubbies the kids used to store their things in. Stiles had gotten them to school fifteen minutes early in the hopes that whatever Derek wanted to speak with him about, it wasn’t serious enough to warrant an hour-long discussion.

“Hey, come on in,” Derek greeted him and ushered him into the room. “Close the door behind you, please.” Derek sat hunched over his desk in the corner of the room. As Stiles pulled the door shut behind him, Derek stood from his seat and motioned for Stiles to join him. “Thanks for coming in early, I appreciate it. Here, have a seat.” He gestured to a chair beside his desk – too big for children, and obviously meant for adult guests.

Stiles accepted the offer and sat down, but he was too nervous for idle chit chat. “So, what is this about? Did something happen to Elysia yesterday? Was she not paying attention in class?” There was a long list of paranoid possibilities Stiles had dreamt up.

Derek tilted his head, his lips falling into a lopsided smile. “No, Elysia’s first day was perfectly fine. I’m actually here to talk about her file.”

Stiles’s heart plummeted. “Her file?” Elysia hadn’t been an easy student – her kindergarten teacher labelled her as a, ‘behaviourally difficult child,’ but Stiles didn’t think his daughter had already accumulated _a file_.

“Yeah,” Derek continued, “I know she had a bit of trouble last year with her kindergarten teacher, and I know you’ve approached our academic councillor with concerns about her… lack of engagement in a classroom setting.”

“She gets distracted easily.” Stiles explained. He didn’t want to put Elysia in a box – putting a label on her would mark her for life, as it had with him and his ADHD. He knew, better than anyone, how hard it was to stay focused, and how hard facing the stigma of mental illness was.

Derek nodded slowly. “I noticed.” There was a short, uncomfortable pause as Stiles waited for Derek to inevitably suggest what every other person had before him. Put Elysia on Adderall. Pump chemicals into her body to balance her out. “So, I was wondering how you felt about testing her.”

“Alright,” Stiles started, a heat wave of anger taking hold of him. “First of all, you have _no idea_. None. Elysia has been dealing with this her entire life. We manage it. Every day. Sure, she can be… _difficult_ , but I’m not about to drown her in drugs because she’s too hard for people to deal with.”

Derek frowned and opened his mouth to interject but Stiles plowed onwards.

“Secondly, she is _my_ daughter. Her mother and I both agree Elysia’s better off learning how to deal with this on her own terms, on her own time, without having to develop a dependency on some prescription. Do not tell me how to raise my child. She’s my daughter. I love her. Everything I do, I do for her, _including_ keeping her off of Adderall.” Stiles finished, and with his final words he felt the wave of anger subsiding.

Derek watched Stiles carefully, waiting for him to continue his rant. When Stiles didn’t say anything Derek cleared his throat.

“You make some very valid points.” Derek noted, tilting his head to the side. “How you and your wife parent is up to you, one hundred percent, I won’t argue that.” Stiles opened his mouth to dispute the insinuation that he and Lydia were married, but one stern look from Derek kept him quiet. Apparently it was Derek’s turn to talk. “I will, however, ask you again. Would you like to get Elysia tested? For her IQ.” Stiles blinked. “She’s a strong candidate for the gifted program we have at the school. There are fewer children in the classroom, so she’d have more one on one time with the teacher. That might help with keeping her more engaged in the lessons.”

Stiles suddenly regretted _everything_.

“Oh.” He stated dumbly.

Derek chuckled. “Yeah.”

“Can we pretend like I didn’t just say all that?” Stiles asked hopefully, and was rewarded with another delightful chuckle from Derek.

He nodded, lips in a thin smile. “Don’t worry. I won’t hold it against you.”

Stiles took a moment to replay Derek’s offer and began seriously considering it. He’d talk to Lydia about it first, and then Elysia, but he wanted what was best for her. If another program might help…

“Do you have any pamphlets?” Stiles was going to research the hell outta it. He’d look at online studies, informational packets, and question former students… whatever he could find.

Derek reached into the drawer of his desk and handed Stiles a glossy pamphlet. “If you have any questions I’m more than happy to talk more about it with you, or you could speak with the Academic Advisor again.” Derek explained, leaning against his desk. “You don’t have to decide now. They don’t start testing until the springtime. They’ll compare Elysia’s classroom scores to the test scores, and from there they’ll decide if a different placement will be right for her next year.”

“Well, thanks.” Stiles said, somewhat amazed that Derek had taken the time to even _care_ about one of his students. “I really appreciate it. Seriously.”

“Don’t worry about it. I think every kid deserves a chance to learn, in whatever way they need it.” Derek replied nonchalantly. He glanced at his watch and gave Stiles an apologetic smile. “Anyways, thanks for coming in. I still have to set out the first lesson, so, if you’ll excuse me.”

Stiles nodded, sliding the pamphlet into his back pocket before bowing his head and backing out of the room. “Of course. Talk to you later.” Stiles said as he took his leave.

͠

“Absolutely not.” Lydia said, and Stiles could feel her boring glare through the phone. “Elysia already has a difficult time fitting in. She doesn’t need to be a part of some ‘special class’.”

Stiles held back a frustrated sigh. He’d read through the pamphlet, looked through the online forums of the school, scrolled through other parents’ testimonials. He’d researched and he liked what he saw. “It’s not a _special class_ ,” Stiles said, mocking her intonation, “it’s a class for students with higher IQ’s who need… more attention than other students.”

Lydia scoffed. “Why don’t we just smother her face in grease and force braces on her teeth.”

“Lydia,” Stiles grumbled, “you’re making this _way_ more difficult than it needs to be.”

Lydia clicked her tongue impatiently. “I know that you survived school and bullies, but do you really want to subject Elysia to the same torment? Kids are mean, Stiles. You should know that better than anyone.”

Stiles took a breath to calm his aggravated nerves. School hadn’t been easy for him – he was the weird kid, the spazz. He found comfort in comic books and took solace in Star Wars. The other kids rejected him, ignored him, and taunted him. It was hell. But Stiles had made it through, with the help of a few close friends, like Scott.

“What’s more important Lydia, our daughter’s education or her social superiority?” Stiles asked, knowing Lydia wouldn’t answer the ultimatum. If it was up to them, Elysia would have everything.

“I’ll think about it, okay Stiles?” She growled. “I need to go now, I’m late to my next appointment.” With that she ended the call and left Stiles to stew in his own frustration.

After a while he left the sanctuary of his bedroom to check on Elysia, who was sprawled out on her bedroom floor with a number of stuffed animals spread out before her. When Stiles knocked on the doorframe she peered up at him.

“Daddy, I have thirty-seven stuffed animals.” She stated, sweeping a hand to call his attention to the lined up animals. She’d managed to pull out every single Beanie Baby and Plush in her collection.

Stiles blinked. He counted the stuffed animals. Thirty-seven. He walked over and sat down beside Elysia, patting her gently on the back. “That’s a lot of stuffed animal Squidge. Did you count them all by yourself?”

She nodded, sucking her lower lip into her mouth. “Mhmm.”

He tilted his head at her. “I thought you could only count to twenty-two.” He recalled the other day, when she proudly announced Isaac had been a better counter than her.

Elysia shrugged. “He _was_ a better counter. Mr. Hale’s been helping us learn numbers though.”

Stiles chuckled, in awe of both his daughter, and of Derek. “He must be a really great teacher.”

Elysia gave her father a sidelong glance. “Yeah, he is. But it’s also because I’m really smart.”

Stiles saw a very Lydia-esque expression cross his daughter’s face just then.


	4. Chapter 4

By the last week of school Derek had begun to feel the effects of summer vacation beginning to fade. His kids’ energy levels had sky-rocketed now that school had become their only escape from home and boredom. It had become harder and harder to get the class to settle long enough to get through a lesson without some interruption or distraction.

Elysia Stilinski lived up to her reputation. Before the year began, a number of his colleagues had warned him about her. They threw words around like, “conduct disorder,” and “behavioural problems,” and expected Derek to justify their beliefs with anecdotes of her hell-raising in his class.

He would admit that Elysia was difficult – she burst out of her seat during lessons, she challenged his authority, and she couldn’t seem to sit still long enough to finish her assignments. That didn’t warrant being labelled for the rest of her life, so he refused to indulge the other teachers despite their consistent prodding.

Elysia was bright and energetic, and Derek hoped that Stiles, her enigmatic father, would consider Derek’s offer.

As the last Friday of September began with a sharp bell and shuffling of tiny people into his classroom, Derek noticed Elysia’s natural enthusiasm was absent. She stared, forlorn, at her feet as she filed into the room with all the others.

Throughout the day Derek kept an eye on her. She didn’t speak out in class, didn’t race from one end of the grounds to the other during recess, and barely looked up from her desk. Near the end of the day Derek called on her and she blinked up at him, as if seeing him for the first time.

“Yes Mr. Hale?” She asked, eyes round.

“Do you know what the answer is?” He asked, pointing to the equation on the board. Six plus four, easy enough. On any other day Elysia would have proudly announced the answer, but she barely looked at it before shaking her head and withdrawing once more.

When the end of the day bell rang, most of the students raced out of the room, eager to get home and taste the freedom of the weekend. Elysia ambled out of the room, shoulders slumped and lips puffed out, as if she were exhausted.

Derek tidied up his desk, pushed in overlooked chairs, and slowly made his way to the corridor. Most of the kids were already gone, but a few stragglers still struggled with their coats and bags. Usually Derek saw Stiles waiting for his daughter on the other side of the glass doors, but there was no sign of him, and Elysia didn’t look particularly interested in looking for him.

Derek approached her and knelt down. “Where’s your dad today Elysia?” He asked, hoping to get some response from her. Usually when she talked about her father she brightened.

Elysia’s lips pursed as she half-heartedly slung her bag over her shoulders. “My daddy isn’t coming today.”

Derek frowned. Elysia was too young to walk home alone – however far that was.

“Who’s coming to pick you up then?” Derek asked, glancing once more through the doors, as if Stiles would magically appear.

“My mommy,” Elysia answered and yawned, rubbing her eyes. She patted Derek’s shoulder, as if to console him, and looked into his eyes. “It’s been a long day Mr. Hale. You should go home too.” She said seriously, sighing slightly.

Derek chuckled. “Alright Elysia, I will. Have a good weekend.”

As he stood, Derek noticed a woman standing in the doorway. When she noticed him noticing her, she propped her sunglasses onto the top of her head and started strolling over to him and Elysia. She reached them and held out her hand, “Mr. Hale, I presume.”

“Yes, and you must be Mrs. Stilinski.” He saw the resemblance between her and Elysia the moment she lifted her glasses, revealing calculating green eyes. Another obvious giveaway was the strawberry blonde hair.

The woman’s nose scrunched up and her lips curled into a pinched expression of distaste. “Ms. Martin, actually, but yes, I’m Elysia’s mom.” Elysia tugged impatiently on Ms. Martin’s dress – which was a deep navy blue and form-fitting – but the woman seemed oblivious to her daughter’s insistence. “I hear you’re the one I have to thank for putting Stiles on the ‘ _gifted program_ ’ track.”

Her tone had an underlying bite to it that Derek didn’t immediately know how to respond to. “Uhh,” he paused, brow furrowing, “yeah. I think Elysia’s a great candidate.”

Ms. Martin’s sugary sweet smile couldn’t hide the venom in her eyes. “Well thank you, for the suggestion, but I think Elysia’s happy right where she is. Now, if you’ll excuse us.” Lydia grabbed her daughter’s hand and removed herself from the conversation, leading her daughter out of the school.

When Derek first started teaching, he’d been full of hopeful ideals. Although he hadn’t been teaching for a long time – only five years – he still felt it was his duty to somehow improve the entire North American education system.

But there was only so much he could do.

He had quickly learned that the only influence he really had, was on the kids that he taught. And even then he was limited.

With a defeated sigh he returned to his desk.

͠

“Hey squidge, how was school today?” Stiles asked, phone pressed close to his ear. He was lounging on the couch in his boxers – completely free from the tyranny of clothes while his daughter spent the weekend at Lydia’s.

“It was okay,” Elysia replied. Stiles expected her to expand – she generally spent ten minutes regaling Stiles with a full recount of her school day – but the conversation dropped into an unexpected silence.

Stiles sat up, his father sense’s tingling.

“What’s wrong sweetie?” He asked.

Elysia didn’t say anything for a long moment. Then she sighed. “Dad, do you and mommy hate each other?”

Stiles’s heart froze. “No, we don’t hate each other. Why would you think that Elle?”

“I heard you fighting. You weren’t saying very nice things.” Elysia said, voice small.

Earlier in the week, Stiles and Lydia had been on the phone with each other to discuss putting Elysia into the program Derek had mentioned. Any time Stiles brought it up Lydia would shut him down. He’d gotten frustrated, and in his frustration forgot he had a perceptive six-year-old daughter who liked to stay up past her bedtime.

“I know sweetie, but grown-ups argue sometimes. I’m sorry if it upset you.” Stiles apologized, feeling worse than he’d felt in a long time.

“You don’t need to apologize to _me_ ,” Elysia said, and the line crackled, “Mommy, daddy wants to say something to you.” After another moment, “ _Mommy_!” Elysia cried, no doubt demanding Lydia’s otherwise preoccupied attention.

“Yes, Stiles?” Lydia came on the phone.

“Hey Lyds, I’m very, very sorry for some of the things I said the other night. I hope you can forgive me.” Stiles apologized once more, this time with a little extra coating of exaggeration to appease Elysia.

“I forgive you. Thank you for apologizing.” Lydia followed along with the dialogue.

“And thank _you_ for forgiving me.” Stiles replied, warranting a derisive snort from Lydia.

“Yay!” Elysia squealed sharply through the phone, the blast of noise eradicating Stiles’s ear drum. “Okay, we have to go now daddy, bye, I love you!” She chattered, and the moment Stiles returned the sentiments she hung up the phone.


End file.
